


Infectious Sax

by yourKitty



Category: Deadpool (2016), Marvel, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 13:23:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12482580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourKitty/pseuds/yourKitty
Summary: Just a story of regret and confusion.





	Infectious Sax

Holding the bulky arm of your date, you carefully stepped into the dance venue, documenting each “click” your heels made with the floor’s immaculate surface. You shivered when a rush of air made hard contact with your bare, supple arms. Your chest heaved under the tightness of your dress, especially around the waist, as you took a deep breath, feeling your cheeks grow hot in the same instance. Nearly tripping over the long, silk skirt of your dress in cherry red, you gripped your date for support. 

Wade was finally home. After a long year of heartache and confusion, he returned almost as if nothing happened, guessing he did it to “protect” you. You understood he was a stupid, ill man, but you held on regardless, and you thought nothing would change that. He shakily took your hand, uncharacteristically anxious and unsure, and led you through the dauntingly sized doors onto the populated dancefloor. 

You danced together smoothly and leisurely, impressed by your man’s skills. You figured he forgot how to dance by now. As the music faded into silence, he stepped back to get a meaningful look at you and take it all in, appreciating the way the subtle strobe lights illuminated your features. He hadn’t seen you in over a year before now. His eyes made their way into yours. Even through the gruffness he gained during his time away, and the dark marks under his eyes, you could see where he still cared for you and only you. You could only stare back with empty, tired, emotionless lack of love and understanding. It was nearly impossible to forgive him. 

You opened your mouth slightly to tell him something; maybe to apologize, maybe to criticize. But nothing came of it. From your memories, you retrieved the one from the last time you saw him. You had just started dating then, but you still saw him as a good friend, a very good friend, not just some other boyfriend. The first winter you shared. He promised he’d be back, and that he loved you. Just sweet nothings, empty words, careless whispers to you. Until he was gone, you didn’t realise you loved him back, and that left a hole in you that you weren’t able to fix. 

Wade backed to give you much-needed space. His dancing devolved into distracted, arrhythmic stumbles as the night went on. You agreed to dance with him that night because it was your favourite thing you were able to do together, not because you forgave him. It was one of the things you missed the most during his seasons absent. He shook his head disappointedly, admitting he shouldn’t have brought you here. He never told you why he was gone for so long, and declared that he honestly should have known better than to keep it from you. He loved you like no one else, but you had to leave then. 

Suddenly, you startled at the music that seemed so loud tonight. You glanced at Wade, and he stepped aside, wanting to lose the crowd. The overly curious bunch watched as your relationship slowly crumbled before their eyes. Neither of you knew that, though. You juggled the possibility of a split for a few short moments, thinking, “Maybe it’s better this way.” You acknowledge that you would hurt him with your harsh words that you were bottling up for months. And he would tell you off. He was sick of apologies only. 

Wade said time and time again that you were so good together. And you could have continued. Little did you know, he was contemplating marriage. The wild, unhinged merc, married. Definitely a novel concept. Internally, you longed to dance with him forever, to be always in his arms. You didn’t mind his “scars,” as they were, anymore. You savoured each touch by his rough skin. It didn’t matter much to you any longer because he was there, with you. 

He took the cues and looked for another dance partner; not now -- but later -- but no one would dance with him. Only you. His eyes met yours, you could only read them as a begging tactic; begging you to stay with him. He needed you. 

You knew it, too, but you stepped back, now unwilling to stick with him through the aftermath. Wade never did understand what he did wrong, in terms of apology, and he couldn’t stand to be alone again. Not after what he’s recently experienced. Yet you sat on the other side of the live band and let the savoury saxophone fill your mind instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on "Careless Whisper" (best song of all time, don't fight me), if you couldn't tell, because I couldn't resist.  
> Sorry, y'all.  
> I'm new to this, and much too aged.


End file.
